Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel (12 page)

“That’s why I’m driving to Canada
with piles of money. There’s an international airport in Vancouver that has
direct flights to New Zealand. I have a fake passport and driver’s license that
I bought almost a year ago, and I’m sure that any car dealership would be
willing to trade in my Mercedes without much fuss. And, by the way, for the
last few months I’ve made high, but not unusual, withdrawals of money, enough
to last me for a lifetime, not including my bank accounts overseas. Let the
United States government enjoy what’s left. It looks like they need it . . .“

“I guess you’ve truly thought of
everything.“

“Absolutely. The only thing I
hadn’t taken into consideration was a pesky, little cop that would dig too
deep, but as you can see – that also worked itself out eventually.“ Kelly’s
fingers tightened on the trigger.

Sharon felt her heart pounding.
She tried to exhale slowly, but her lungs felt drained and useless. She looked
up at Kelly and forced herself to take a deep breath. She needed to stay
focused. She had to stall Kelly until someone got here.

“But why Gloria McIntyre?“ she
asked again.

Kelly did not answer.

Sharon thought of the last few
days that had led her to this moment. The meeting in Kelly’s fancy office when
Kelly had offered Sharon her full cooperation. Her own stubbornness to keep on
digging deeper and deeper. The decision to visit Kelly’s mother. Miranda’s slip
about the mysterious trauma her little girl had suffered. Looking at the old
family photos . . .

Then she realized how Gloria was
a part of the picture, literally.

“You knew Gloria as a kid, didn't
you?“ Sharon asked confidently, recalling the mysterious, yet familiar,
character from the photos Miranda had shown her.

Kelly froze.
How could she
know?

“What happened back then? In
1990?“

Kelly was mortified. No one was
supposed to know about her deep, dark secret. The secret that had eventually
made her into the woman she was today – a murderess.

“How do you know?“ Kelly gasped.
She almost felt herself being sucked back into the miserable day that had
changed her life, but she stayed strong. She managed to hold back the
uncontrollable tears that appeared every time she thought about that day.

“What did she do to you?“ Sharon
took a leap. She wasn’t really sure where she was going with this, but she
noticed that it had an effect on Kelly. She could see it in her eyes.

“Stop! Enough! That's it! I need
to get out of here!“ Kelly screamed.

It seemed as if Sharon had struck
a nerve. She’d finally figured out where all of this madness was coming from.

“What did she do to you that was
so awful, that even twenty years later you’re so desperate for revenge?“

Kelly gave her a lethal look.
“It's time to say goodbye.“ She steadied her gun and aimed it at Sharon, her
fingers still secured on the trigger.

“Kelly, if you think this is
going to be easy, you're wrong. All this time you’ve been telling yourself that
you're killing bad people. Sinners. What will you say to convince yourself that
it's okay to kill me?“

“Sometimes the end justifies the
means,“ Kelly tried to exude confidence, but deep inside she knew the cop was
right. She knew Sharon Davis was a good person who did not deserve to die.

A person whose only mistake had
been getting too close to the truth.

“Kelly, you know I'm innocent.
Don't do this. You still have the chance to do the right thing,“ Sharon
implored with glistening eyes, her voice not as steady as it had been earlier.

“No, this is the right thing to
do.“ Kelly tried to keep her voice calm. “This is what has to be done.“

“Please, don't . . .“ Sharon's
voice cracked. Tears glided down her cheek.

“I'm sorry. There’s no other
way,“ Kelly whispered. Her fingers tightened over the trigger.

Sharon kept staring straight at
her. Hurt, agonized, defeated.

Kelly could not look at her
anymore. She turned off the light, convincing herself that what happened in the
dark was not real. The flickering city lights penetrated through the glass
window and encircled Sharon’s silhouette in a dim gleam. Kelly aimed her gun
again and fired.

Sharon’s shriek pierced the air
and made Kelly twitch. She lowered her gun but her hands were still locked on
the trigger and felt clammy. A deathly silence took over the room; all she
could hear was her own rapid breathing. The stench of the gun powder, mixed
with the smell of blood and charred skin, made her nauseous. She had to get out
of there, and she needed to hurry. Someone must have heard the shot and the
police would get here soon only to find the lifeless body of Detective Davis.

She carefully approached the
slouched body, still seated upright in the chair. Imprisoned. Her shoulders
slumped and head drooped down, suspended in a posture of eternal submission.

“You were a worthy opponent, but
it seems as though the better woman won,“ she said.  

Kelly walked outside and closed
the door behind her.

T
he photo shoot
would end in less than three days, Andy realized, after which he and Gloria
would be on their way to meet Kelly Danes. He assumed Kelly would expect to see
some of the photos, and wanted to guarantee that they would come out
spectacular. Andy hoped to impress her. After all, she had given him a
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

At the end of each grueling day
of shooting, he would examine the photos he had taken that day and select the
ones that caught his eye. Afterwards, he would print the photos on a special
printing paper he had brought with him. Although Andy would have preferred
developing the pictures in the old fashioned way, for enhancing the
photographs’ resolutions and shades, he felt that setting up a dark room in the
middle of a secluded inn was a tad too zealous, even for him. So he settled for
the printer instead. It would have spared him a lot of trouble if he had
resolved to show Kelly the photos on the screen of his laptop, but he wanted
her to have something tangible that could help her envision how they would look
on the cover of her magazine.

His double role, photographer by
day and a photo developer by night, had left him with very few hours of sleep.
But despite that, he hadn’t passed up a single chance to be with Gloria, even
if he had to drink endless amounts of coffee to compensate. He wasn't afraid of
hard work; on the contrary, it increased his drive to keep pushing harder -
like a snowball rolling downhill, gaining momentum. And he loved every second
of it.

He still found it hard to believe
that he was on the other side of the planet, photographing the most famous
model on earth; in short, every photographer’s dream come true. The life he had
lived just a few days ago, one that included a sloppy bachelor’s pad in New
York and late night outings to gloomy pubs with his best friend Bill, who
always tried to convince him to
“forget these stupid artistic dreams and
start focusing on making money!“
seemed so distant. He did not want to go
back there. From here on out, he hoped that he would only move forward.

Andy stared at the screen, trying
to decide which photos were worthy of printing. His eyes landed on a photo in
which Gloria was not even looking at the camera. It seemed as if she were
grinning at someone outside of the frame, not one of those camera-ready smiles,
but an authentic, loving beam.

He found himself fascinated by
the woman in the picture and wondered at heart who she was smiling at, what she
was thinking, and how she was feeling. For a slight moment, he had even forgotten
it was Gloria.  He was simply curious to find out the story behind the
photo; what was the tale of that candid moment that had been captured. Andy
knew it might not have been the typical cover shot, but as far as he was
concerned, it was, literally, picture perfect.

When Andy returned to his room, holding in his hand the
printed photo, he saw Gloria sneaking out of her room and stopping in front of
his door, fixing her hair a moment before knocking. She turned her head, and
when she noticed him watching her, a broad grin embellished her face.

“Hey, what’s that in your hand?
Another photo from today?“

“Yes, my favorite one so far.“

“Talk about high expectations.
Let me see.“

Andy passed her the picture.
Gloria’s face did not convey any expression of special admiration.

“Nice photo. Isn’t it a little
bit weird that I’m not looking at the camera?“

“That’s my favorite thing about
the picture.“

“Really?“

“Yes. It’s like a moment that was
not supposed to be caught on camera had been captured. And we can only
speculate but never truly know its true meaning. It’s intriguing.“

Gloria looked at the photo again,
trying to apprehend what she had missed at first glance.

“Oh, I remember this!“ Her thoughts
went to Arthur when their eyes locked on the set.

“Come on, tell me! I’m still
trying to unravel the mystery!“

“Not telling you!“

“Gloria, remember we talked about
your teasing?“

“Remember we agreed there was
nothing you can do about it?“

“
Because you can’t teach
an
old
dog new tricks
?“

“Watch it mister, or I’m going
straight back to my room!“

“Oh, I’m sorry . . . My mother
did always remind me that I needed to respect my elders.“

“Andy!“

“Gloria . . .“

“Oh, wait. You’ve got some . . .“
She reached a delicate hand and gently stroked his face.

“What?“ Andy, distracted by her
soft touch, looked into her eyes and smiled.

“Milk left on the corner of your
lip,“ she said triumphantly and turned the other way, so she would have the
upper hand.

“Gloria, wait,“ he ran after her,
now used to the fact that she needed to be chased, and proved that she was
worth the effort.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I
forgot my hearing aid in my room . . .“

Andy grabbed her and held her
close to him.

“I wish that, at times, you chose
not to hear all the nonsense coming out of my mouth,“ he whispered, “but I hope
you can at least read my lips when I’m telling you I am madly in love with
you.“

Gloria looked at him, the
combative expression in her eyes gone. She did not say a word, just let herself
be embraced in his arms.

“Let’s go inside,“ she said,
taking Andy’s hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

T
he white light
blinded her even before she opened her eyes. She felt as if her body had
somehow loosened, a kind of floating sensation, that she could barely sense
herself. Muffled voices whispered around her, although in her head there was
utter silence. She felt as though she had reached the end of a long journey,
and now had to face the finish line. Eventually, she opened her eyes. A vague
silhouette occupied the dazzling space.

“It’s good to have you back with
us, Sharon.“

That voice was oddly familiar; a
lot like her uncle Jack’s, who had been killed on duty three years ago. He was
also a cop.

“Where am I?“ she asked in a
raspy voice.

“Don’t worry. It’s alright. The
most important thing right now is for you to get some rest. You’ve been through
quite an ordeal.“

Sharon didn't understand where
she was. The last thing she remembered was the excruciating pain she had felt
when the bullet from Kelly’s gun had pierced her chest. She had been sure that
she was about to die.

“What’s going on here? I don’t
understand . . .“

“You’re in Mount Sinai hospital.
It’s a miracle you’re alive. It’s important that you rest.“

Sharon was so confused and
overwhelmed. Who found her? How did she get here? Is she really going to be
okay? 

 “You dodged a bullet.“ She
heard that friendly voice again. “Well, not exactly, but you get my drift.“

Sharon’s eyes started to grow
accustomed to the neon light. The vague silhouette began to look more and more
familiar, from one moment to another.

“Rob . . . ?“

“You thought I wouldn’t have my
best detective’s back?“

“What happened? How did I . . .“

“Survive?“

Sharon looked at him and nodded.

“It was close. When I found you,
you were unconscious and had already lost a lot of blood, but I felt a pulse.
It was weak but still there. You have always been a fighter.“

Sharon glanced at the bruises the
handcuffs had left on her wrists. She tried to recall what had happened after
Kelly had shot her. She remembered hearing the sound of Kelly’s footsteps
approaching her after she had closed her eyes. In that moment she had known her
only chance was to play dead. She hadn’t dared to take even the weakest breath.
Within minutes she had become trapped in her own doings, but it had worked.

“The paramedics who arrived at
the apartment had a rough time keeping you stable due to all the blood you’d
lost. It was only after they got you to the Hospital that I knew for sure I
wasn’t going to lose you.“

Sharon smiled at him. It was one
of those rare moments where Rob had taken off his cloak of authority.

“That’s it. Twenty-four hours
have passed since then. It’s safe to say that you’re out of the danger zone,
but your body is filled with pain killers.“

Oh, so that’s why I feel like
I’m hovering above a cloud or something . . .

“The doctor said you have to stay
under observation for a couple of days and then take it easy.“ Rob stared at
her. “Is that clear? You are not going back to work before the end of the
month.“

“Oh, no. Oh, no.“

“Sharon. I don’t want to hear one
more word about this.“

“No, Rob. It’s not about that.“

“Then what?“

Suddenly, it all came flooding
back. Rob didn’t know Kelly was the one who had shot her. Sharon hadn’t had a
chance to talk to him before she’d come back to New York.

“Kelly Danes . . . She was the
one who . . .“ Dryness overtook her mouth. It was harder than she’d thought,
admitting that someone had shot her.

“I know,“ Rob said tenderly and
held her hand.

“What are you saying?“ She was
certain Rob hadn’t understood what she meant.

“I know she was the one who did
this to you.“ He, too, could not bring the words to his lips.

“How do you know?“

“After I listened to the message
you’d left me the night before, I decided to conduct an investigation of my
own,“ Rob explained. “I realized Kelly Danes was probably hiding more than
she’s telling, so I decided to pay her a visit. But when I arrived at her
office, I was told she had taken a sick leave, for the first time since she
started working there. Already something seemed suspicious. I tried calling her
cell, but there was no answer. I decided to check whether she was at home, even
at the risk of the commissioner suspending me for misconduct.

“When I got there, nobody
answered the doorbell, but I noticed the door was already slightly ajar. I
entered and called Kelly’s name while scanning the premises. The house looked
squeaky clean, but when I got to the bedroom I noticed that in comparison to
the other rooms, it was a total mess. Clothes on the floor, empty hangers in
the closet, and the absence of a toothbrush in the bathroom ignited my
suspicion. Something was odd, no doubt, but other than that it seemed as though
I had reached a dead end. Kelly had disappeared.

“When I went back to the main
floor I saw the staircase leading down to the basement and decided to take a
look; down there I found an empty space surrounded by mirrors, which was a bit
bizarre but nothing more.“

He paused and cleared his throat.
“As I was heading back up, I spotted a tiny stain on the wooden floor that
looked like blood. I could no longer let Miss Kelly Danes enjoy the benefit of
the doubt, so I called the forensic team. They confirmed what I already knew –
it was blood. I realized that you had been right all along. I asked them to
compare the new sample to the DNA samples of our victims, and this morning they
called me from the lab to notify me that a match was made with Julie
Tyfer
, the last victim.“

“Rob, you’re awesome.“

“No. You are awesome. I never
should have doubted you. You have never failed me, and look at you now . . .“
Rob shook his head.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,
even for one second,“ Sharon implored.

But the look in his glistening
eyes made it clear to her that he was taking full responsibility for what had
happened.

“Anyway,“ said Rob, “right after
I left Kelly’s house I called you, but your cell went straight to voicemail. I
figured your flight had already landed several hours ago, and, as well as I
know you, it didn’t make sense that you hadn’t already bothered me with dozens
of calls in order to find out if I had done what you’d asked,“ he smiled
warmly. “I told myself that maybe you wanted to get some rest after the flight,
but something just didn’t feel right. After all the recent discoveries, I
decided not to take a chance and went to check up on you, even if it turned out
to be just a paranoid hunch.“

Sharon suddenly remembered the
flight back to New York. And Chris. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“When I arrived at your apartment
and saw the door was already open, I knew right away that something had
happened. And then I found you there, bound to the chair. Bleeding . . .“ The
words choked in his throat.

“Rob. Don’t worry. I’m okay.“

“I know. If there’s anyone who is
able to decide they don’t feel like dying and get out of it alive, it’s you.“

Sharon chuckled. It hurt.
Especially in her ribs.

“That’s it. I’ve already sent
dozens of patrol cars after Kelly, but it seems as though she’s vanished,
without a trace.“

I just need to kill the
bitch, and then they can do whatever they want with me.

She had to stop her.

“I need to get out of here.“
Sharon carefully tried to push herself into a sitting position, but the pain pierced
through her instantly.

“For God’s sake, are you still
trying to drive me over the edge, even now? You’re not going anywhere.“

“Oh, yes I am. I know where Kelly
is.“